


in pieces

by softiejohnyong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, M/M, Mention of Bucky, Winter Soldier Taeyong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiejohnyong/pseuds/softiejohnyong
Summary: Taeyong hates it that they let him keep pieces of his memory only because they were the activation codes to turn him into a killing machine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> words are from the lyrics of Baby Don't Stop.

_“Cotton…”_

The feel of Johnny's t-shirt as it dragged across Taeyong's stomach when he stretched, standing in front of the windows of their apartment. Johnny was still on the bed, lightly snoring. He - they - was exhausted, to say the least, after that one hell of an extended mission. The agency finally gave them a few days off, and both had decided to spend that one week solely to be with each other.

 

_“...Wind…”_

The cold swept of winter did little to soothe his nerve. Eyes glued to the scope on his rifle, watching a very effective Johnny creeping his way through layers of armed guards. It had been so long since their last joint mission, and though normally Taeyong preferred to be the man in action, he gladly took the role of sniper to keep troubles out of Johnny's way.

 

_“...Blow…”_

He felt Johnny's warm breath tickling his nape, large hands tracing patterns on his stomach through the thin material of Taeyong's shirt. With fingers still flying across the keyboard, Taeyong let out a startled giggle when Johnny gently bited his neck, sharp teeth leaving behind a red mark on the skin. "Do you know you look freaking hot while hacking into the enemy's system?", Johnny whispered. Naughty hands resumed their little adventure further up Taeyong's body, a silent appreciation of every scar, old and new, etched onto the skin.

 

_“...Blouse…”_

In the midst of people talking, shaking hands covered in dried blood, the smell of burnt materials, Taeyong remembered the white color of the blouse Yuta was wearing. The doctor wasn't in the OR that day, so he stayed with Taeyong, waiting. Yuta tried to tell him to go wash off the blood and get patched, but stopped once he sensed an imminent panic attack from Taeyong. The mission had gone to shit, they were lucky enough to be able to pull the whole team back in time before any more casualties ensued. "He tried to shield me, you know, from fucking yards away. He tried to shield the sniper, who was supposed to be hidden, untraceable. Yuta, i fucked up, and now he's paying the price."

 

_“...Hair…”_

Johnny took pride in his hair. Everyone believed that Johnny had superpower of great hair in every situation ever. Taeyong loved it too. The soft, silky strands of hair felt incredible whenever he put his fingers through it, lightly scratching and massaging Johnny's scalp. They were lying on the ground, beneath the sun, soaking in the warmth it radiated. Johnny looked at him, and smiled, before reaching to pull him in for a kiss.

 

_“...Flower…”_

Angelica for 'inspiration'. Edelweiss for 'courage'. Red rose for 'love'. Willow for 'sadness'. Marigold for 'grief'. Rosemary for 'remembrance'.

 

_“...Aroma…”_

When Taeyong was little, they had a whole field of lavenders behind the house. He loved the smell of lavender. Everything in the house smelled of lavender. What he remembered most was probably the fragrance on his mother and sister's hair, whom he would always miss but couldn't visit. That was why he always kept a small bundle of lavender in the apartment, so that he would always be reminded of home, of the love he had to give up to protect.

 

_“...Scent…”_

It was a wonder that he was still alive to this point. He could smell a very faint metallic scent of his own blood. He could only drink so much from the melted snow. By tomorrow, he probably would have been dead. “I hope they made it,” he thought of his team. They were great soldiers, and the best of friends Taeyong could ever ask for. Doyoung would take care of the whole team - he had been doing that since the beginning, and excelling at that. He just hoped that they wouldn’t forget him.

 

_“No… please, stop…”_

 

_“...Cold eyes…”_

Zola's eyes, to say the least, were filled with pure evil. Taeyong was in his cell when he saw Zola passing by, followed by his team of psychos wheeling someone on the stretcher. He stopped in front of the glass window and signalled for Taeyong to come closer. Cold eyes, disgustingly slippery voice. "Sergeant Lee, i got you a new friend”. Taeyong looked down and was greeted with the sight of a bloody, battered body, a small piece of fabric on the chest that reads, _‘Barnes. J’_.

 

_“...Ice…”_

Cracks started to appear on the ice surface he was standing on. Just one more step and it would break, drowning Johnny in the ice cold water underneath. The wind was blowing, _violently_ , onto his back. “Taeyong,” he whispered. He got a black metal muzzle pointed in his direction for an answer.

 

_“...Dive…”_

The water was ice cold, biting at his skin as Johnny struggled to emerge and breathe. Suddenly, something even colder, metal hard snaked itself around his waist, pulling him to the left; then roughly threw him onto the lakeshore. Taeyong’s face came into view, dark eyes looking at him intently. “Stay out of my way.” With that, he left.

 

_“...Touch…”_

Sex with any others would be just sex, purely in search for pleasure. But with Johnny, it was about love. How Johnny showed his love, his appreciation for Taeyong just by touching. Warm hands grasping onto each other, lips kissing every bit of skin, quick breaths brushing his neck, “I love you” being whispered into his ears. Sex with Johnny was always perfect.

 

_“...Warm…”_

The TV was showing some silly cartoon, a brown rat pissing off a napping cat. He didn’t really pay attention, switching between dozing off and half awake. But Johnny seemed to enjoy the cartoon very much, judging from the rumble of the sturdy chest behind Taeyong’s back. He liked to cuddle with Johnny like this. Close, intimate, cute.

 

_“...Melt…”_

The facility wasn’t very sectioned: everyone saw what the others were doing, every experience was conducted only a few feet from each other. From his cell, Taeyong could see them molding something that looked very much like an arm. Red, hot liquid metal pouring down into the cast underneath. He had seen the people of this facility make several of those arms, or parts of them, during the past month. For a moment, he wondered if one of those arms was for him. After all, Zola cut off half of his right arm. He figured the mad genius must have something in store for him.

 

_“...Lips…”_

At that moment, Johnny’s lips looked very, _very_ kissable. Oh how much he wanted to kiss Johnny. Having finished his own execises, Taeyong was allowed a few minutes to catch his breath. Said minutes were spent watching Johnny on the other side of the training field, who was taking down several targets with either his gun or his fist. Johnny was slightly out of breath, lips parting to take in more air, some drops of sweat rolling down his face and stopping just above his lips. Those pink, curvy lips that often stretched into the brightest smile Taeyong had ever known, his own body filled with happiness every time that smile was directed at him.

Taeyong’s wish was granted only four days after that. Their first kiss was chaste and sweet, but maddening, when he leaned up for a second, then a third, then a fourth, accompanied by Johnny’s breathless laugh. He could never get enough of those lips.

 

_“Soldier?”_

_“Report for duty.”_


	2. Cotton

The sun was shining brightly in the sky, soft breezes were caressing the trees, birds were happily chirping to others. It was a beautiful Sunday. Taeyong woke up first and found himself encased by Johnny’s long limbs. Carefully slipping out of his embrace, Taeyong moved to stand in front of the windows and felt the soft cotton of Johnny’s t-shirt dragging across his skin as he stretched. Aside from their combat suits, Taeyong shared most of his clothes with Johnny. Or more like, he stole his boyfriend’s t-shirts on a daily basis. Last night was no exception. Fresh off the flight back from Siberia, it was a wonder that Taeyong hadn’t fallen face first onto the door of their shared apartment. Even Taeyong himself was surprised that he got enough energy left to grope around for a clean t-shirt to sleep in. Coincidentally, or habitually, it was Johnny’s shirt. It was just something about the scent lingering on his clothes that always managed to calm Taeyong down; and it was weird, because they used the same detergent - they live together for god’s sake!

Despite the earlier movements from Taeyong, Johnny was still fast asleep in bed, light snoring coming from his parted lips. Both of them were exhausted, to say the least, from that one hell of an extended mission, and the agency finally agreed to give them a few days off. Taeyong wanted so bad to kiss his boyfriend right then. Johnny looked peaceful while sleeping, completely different from his usual work face - or _mean face_ as Johnny liked to call it.

 _Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt_ , with that thought in mind, Taeyong climbed back into bed and lied down face-to-face with Johnny to really _looked_ at his boyfriend. There were several new cuts and scratches from the mission, an old scar that slashed from the bottom lip to his chin. But Johnny was perfect. Those marks on his face only showed how much they had been through, how much they had grown together. Taeyong was lucky to have met and fallen in love with this man. Quietly, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Johnny’s forehead. “I love you”, he whispered.

*

After finishing his morning routine, Taeyong decided to make breakfast for them. But seeing that they had been always for nearly a month, it was understandable that there was nothing left in the fridge, aside for three cans of beer. A quick trip to the convenience store downstairs then.

Johnny was in deep sleep when Taeyong returned, eggs, bread and a large box of orange juice in hands. They still needed to do some grocery shopping later. Taeyong quickly moved into the kitchen and pulled out their only frying pan. _Well, another thing to add to the shopping list_. By the time Taeyong was done with the eggs, a pair of strong arms snaked themselves around him before he was enveloped in the familiar warmth. “Good morning,” came Johnny’s gruff voice as he buried his face onto Taeyong’s nape. He smiled, ruffled the fluffy hair on top of his boyfriend’s head.

“Good morning to you too. Did you have a good sleep?”, he asked. When he got no reply, Taeyong turned around, albeit with difficulty since Johnny was a big guy, and had to pinch Johnny’s left cheek to confirm that he was awake.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me like that!”. Even with all the training they received, it was a bit of a strain for Taeyong to fully support Johnny’s weight, especially when he purposefully put all of it on Taeyong’s much slimmer frame like this.

“Can we go back to bed?”, and of course, his boyfriend would also whine like a baby. Taeyong rolled his eyes.

“Did you really get out of bed just to return to it?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been fully charged yet. I need a full dose of you.” Cheese was definitely Johnny’s middle name. Johnny Cheese Suh.

“As tempting as that sounds, we need to go shopping for food if you don’t want to starve in the next four days. Now go brush your teeth, breakfast will be ready soon.” With that, Taeyong pushed his boyfriend in the direction of the bathroom and turned around to finish what he was doing before.


	3. Wind

“You good?”, Taeyong asked, tightening the straps on the side of Johnny’s suit.

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I? You good too?” Looking into Taeyong’s eyes, Johnny saw a spark of uncertainty. Taeyong was naturally a worrier, so Johnny brushed it off as the usual anxiety before every operation. Nonetheless, he had to make sure that his to-be-fiancé was alright. (Yes, he was going to propose after this was over)

“I’m okay, just- be careful, okay? I’ll cover your back, but in case-” Taeyong was cut off by a soft peck on the corner of his lips.

“Babe, I trust you, okay? I know you will protect me, like you always do. And beside, you are great with this little guy here,” a quick gesture to the AWM rifle slung over Taeyong’s back, “so don’t worry too much. It will be fine.” With that, and another kiss on his forehead, Johnny pushed Taeyong to the exit entrance of the rather large vehicle that was carrying the whole squad.

“T, your turn.”

*

The cold swept of winter did little to soothe his nerve. Eyes glued to the scope on his rifle, Taeyong watched as a very effective Johnny crept his way through layers of armed guards. It had been so long since their last joint mission, and though normally Taeyong preferred to be the man in action, he gladly took the role of sniper to keep troubles out of Johnny's way.

“One armed target on the second floor, another moving your way.” He said into the intercom.

“Copy that.” Came Johnny’s reply, slightly out of breath.

Johnny was the best agent they had (beside Taeyong, of course). Eloquent in speech, efficient in combats, Johnny had made quite a name for himself as the Shadow. Even back then when they had just entered the espionage program as trainees, Taeyong had already knew that Johnny would be great. They used to be rivals though: always on a bet as to who was the better marksman, who came up with the optimal tactic, who was the first to come out of the maze, and so on. Both of them had their own streak of competitiveness, but it would be a lie to say Taeyong wasn’t amazed every time Johnny beat him. Just like now, as he watched his to-be-fiancé swiftly snap the neck of another guard without the one right next to him knowing.

*

“Everyone, pull back! I repeat, pull back!”, Doyoung’s frantic voice resounded through the earpiece. ‘Doyoung’ and ‘frantic’ rarely go in the same sentence. Before anyone could react, the left side of the building exploded, burning up brightly in the dead of night. Taeyong looked at the ball of smoke and fire with horror. He saw Johnny enter that building.

“Johnny! Come in! Where are you? Does anybody have visual on him?” Taeyong nearly yelled into the intercom, fear taking control of his mind. Ten’s reply only furthered his worst nightmare.

“I don’t see him on the radar, the explosion must have jammed the signal or something. Does anyone else see him?”

“Fuck! Johnny! Say something!” Coming out of his hiding spot, Taeyong swept the whole area with the scope attached to his rifle, hoping that maybe he could catch a glimpse of Johnny among the mess down there. One explosion led to many others; there were people running out of the collapsing facilities, shouting and shooting in every direction possible.

While the rest of the squad were making it back to the truck driven by Ten, Taeyong stayed behind to get rid of any potential thread that might be following them. Several minutes passed by with no sight of Johnny, along with Taeyong’s nerves. _It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be…_ Taeyong kept chanting in his head, eyes focusing on searching for a familiar figure to emerge from the dark. Too focused, that he didn’t notice one single red dot hovering right on his heart.

There was a tiny, muted sound of a bullet being shot out. A silhouette fell to the ground.


	4. Blow

Unlike the last few mission, this time, they had the luxury of staying in a decent hotel, with actual hot water and an elevator even. Maybe the big boss had decided to be nice for once and not put their agents in dingy motel rooms.

The job was a simple stakeout, so really, it felt more like a vacation than working. Johnny was fresh out of shower, warm mist clung to the skin and hair still wet. Meanwhile, Taeyong sat near the curtained window, next to their equipment, intense eyes focusing on the laptop screen while briskly typing down codes after codes. He was wearing a simple black v-neck that complimented a set of prominent collarbones, the little silver bracelet - a gift from Johnny - slightly juggling with his hand movement. Johnny took a seat behind Taeyong and watched with fascination as Taeyong hit the enter button then let out a small “aha!”, the image inside their target’s location coming onto the screen.

Taeyong felt Johnny's warm breath tickling his nape, large hands tracing patterns on his stomach through the thin material of his shirt. With fingers still flying across the keyboard, Taeyong let out a startled giggle when Johnny gently bited his neck, sharp teeth leaving behind a red mark on the skin. "Do you know you look freaking hot while hacking into the enemy's system?", Johnny whispered. Naughty hands resumed their little adventure further up Taeyong's body, a silent appreciation of every scar, old and new, etched onto the skin. “My beautiful, brilliant TY,” he heard Johnny mumble. Taeyong couldn’t help a moan slipping past his lips as a rough finger pad circled one nipple, while others started to play with the waistband of his sweats.

“Are you done?” Johnny whispered, teeth coming to nibble his earlobe.

“Almost. Give me a minute.”

“Okay, take your time.”

That was a lie, though. Johnny didn’t let him do any more work, sucking a hickey onto his shoulder. Taeyong promptly shut down the laptop to let out a whimper. He got what they needed. Time for a little bit adult fun.


	5. Blouse

The door to the ER bursted open from the force with which the medics were rolling in the stretcher. The head of the medic team shouted out a string of commands while the team continued to rush their patient as fast as possible to the OR. Their best agent is slowly dying and there was no way they would let that happen.

Contrary to the frantic atmosphere of the medical wing, Taeyong silently sat in a corner of the waiting room. He knew there was nothing else he could do, so he tried to calm down and wait. Waiting had never felt scarier than now. Then, a flash of white passed by his peripheral vision. When Taeyong looked up, it was Yuta.

“Mind if I sit here?” The doctor asked, gesturing to the seat next to Taeyong. Both of them fell into silence, until Taeyong cleared his throat.

“It’s been… nearly an hour already. Do- Do you know anything that’s going on in there?” He didn’t look Yuta in the eye, too afraid that if he did his voice would break.

“Sorry, I don’t know. But I’m sure everyone is doing their best to save Johnny. Yongie, why don’t you go wash up a little bit? You wouldn’t want the first thing Johnny sees when he wakes up is your bloody face, would you?” Yuta placed a comforting hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, hoping that he might be able to calm his best friend down a little bit. The doctor heard about how the mission had gone to shit, and with Taeyong being the sniper securing the perimeter who had witnessed everything, it was obvious that he was beyond shaken. Yuta softly grabbed Taeyong’s arm and gestured for him to stand up, but abruptly stopped once he sensed an imminent panic attack from Taeyong.

“He tried to shield me, you know, from fucking yards away. He tried to shield the sniper, who was supposed to be hidden, untraceable. Yuta, I fucked up, and now he's paying the price.” Taeyong said between pants, two hands covered in dried blood - Johnny’s blood - clutching the burnt materials of his own body armor. Yuta immediately sat down again and winded his arms around Taeyong’s shoulders, right hand coming up to pet the mop of dark hair.

“Taeyong, I want you to do what I say now, okay? Breathe in, breathe out. Do it with me,” The doctor rubbed a soothing hand on the back of his best friend’s head, firm voice counting to keep Taeyong breathing. After a while, that seemed to have calmed him down considerably, his throat no longer constricting and he could talk again, abeit with slight difficulty.

“Johnny will live, that dude is a lot harder to kill than you might think - and believe me, I’ve tried. Johnny just wanted to protect you, like the good boyfriend he’s always been. I don’t want you to spiral into thinking that you got him killed, because you didn’t; I also know that the guilt won’t go away any time soon, but just- try to think about Johnny’s recovery instead of the possibility of him dying, because he ain’t going anywhere without you, alright? Now please go wash your face or something, you smell awful, do you know that?”, another soft, assuring pat on Taeyong shoulder.

That seemed to be enough to knock Taeyong back into thinking clearly. Yuta was right, overthinking wasn’t gonna do both of them any good. He would be the one to take care of Johnny in the next many days, he couldn’t afford to lose his shit like this. It wasn’t like they had never got shot - the risk came with the occupation - although that didn’t mean Taeyong wouldn’t be worried sick over Johnny.

With that in mind, Taeyong got up from his seat, ready to go to the nearest restroom to wash off some of the dirt clung to his skin; when a surgeon emerged from the OR, kind eyes looking for Taeyong.

**Author's Note:**

> in celebration of Steve’s crying face in the Avengers 4 trailer *inserts clapping emojis*


End file.
